Bravery In Death
by DV8playa
Summary: Follow 1st Lt. Leon Bradely through his war story of disaster.


_**Bravery In Death**_

1st Lieutenant Leon Bradely sat in General Zak Lace's office. The Lt. had the typical buzz cut hair, but you could still tell it was coal black. He had dark blue eyes that burned with a kind of unmatched intensity. He was nearly 6' 2", and weighed an average of 250 pounds of pure muscle. His personality, outside of his job, was for the most part charming. In the field, though, he was brutal to his squadron. Bradely sat in the General's office waiting to meet his new squadron. He was nervous, for he hadn't received a squadron of his own since a failed mission a few weeks back. General Lace kept assuring him that it wasn't his fault, but Bradely refused to listen. Even though he tried not to, his thoughts had been slipping into a brutal replay of the event. This time, however, it was more acutely vivid due to the fact that his sitting in the General's office was similar to how he had met his previous squadron. Completely against his will, the replay of his memory began again….

Bradely sat in front of three fresh PFCs. General Lace introduced them as PFC Holiday, PFC Daniels, and PFC Kain. Bradely extended his hand to each of them. "They look like good men, sir." he said.

General Lace responded, "Best in their class, 1st Lt."

"I would expect nothing less." Bradely said with a small smile at him. Lace chuckled. Bradely then began to size each of the PFCs up. The only one who didn't back down was Kain. "What's your name, soldier?" Bradely asked.

"Edward Kain, sir!" the PFC said, standing up completely straight.

Bradely laughed heartily. "Stand down, Private." Kain reluctantly relaxed. Bradely stood back and gave a piercing glare at his new squadron, then said: "Gentlemen, I am 1st Lt. Leon Bradely. I will be your CO in this upcoming mission. Have you been briefed?"

"I'll answer that one. No." Lace interrupted.

Leon continued with a slightly raised voice. "Okay. Our mission: a small group of Al Quida mercenaries has a fellow soldier held captive. They ask for ammunition in return for his safety. We will be sent to cooperate. We will be equipped with standard M-16's. Nothing fancy, so don't try anything fancy. Do you understand, soldiers?"

"Yes, sir!" every soldier yelled simultaneously, saluting.

Bradely smiled. "Dismissed." he ordered. The three of them left the office. He turned and faced Lace. "What can you tell me about that Kain, General?" Bradely questioned.

"Well… he was the so-called "crazy" one in his class. He's likely to go off on his own, so watch him." the General responded.

"So… he goes lone wolf?" Bradely asked.

"I never said that. I said it's likely." Lace said. "Y'know, actually… he kinda' reminds me of you when you first arrived here."

"Hmm… I thought I liked him." Bradely laughed. General Lace laughed along with him.

Bradely's flashback was ended abruptly when he heard a knock on the door. He looked behind him, and he saw General Lace poke his head through the door, then come all the way in. "Sorry to keep you waiting, 1st Lt. I had some issues hunting them all down. Well… here's your new squad." he said. 4 soldiers trailed in behind Lace, then stood up straight in a salute to Bradely. "Soldiers, this is 1st Lt. Leon Bradely. Don't go too hard on him." the General said with a small smile at Bradely. Bradely sighed back at him, then eyed over his new squadron. He was surprised when he spotted a woman amongst the ranks.

"Who's this?" he asked, approaching her.

"2nd Lt. Riza Hawkeye, sir." she said with a dead-serious tone.

"She was the most skilled sniper in her class, Lt. You'll have no issues finding a good position for her." Lace stated with a small hint of pride in his voice.

"You're not a Private. How long you been here, Hawkeye?" Bradely questioned.

"5 months, sir." she responded.

"_Only_ five months? …Impressive, soldier. You must truly be a great sniper." Bradely huffed.

"I've yet to miss my mark." Hawkeye said.

"Don't get cocky, lady. That'll kill ya' out here…." growled another soldier.

Bradely walked over and got face to face with him. "Well, don't you have yourself a mouth… I'll break that…." he stated, glaring at him. "Name yourself."

"PFC Lance Jones, sir… at your service." he said, bowing at Bradely. He glanced up with a grin on his face.

"Watch that one, Bradely. He's an insane adrenaline junkie. Shoot 'em or leave 'em if you have to." General Lace stated, curling his nose up at Jones.

"Well, I guarantee he won't be acting like that for very long in my squadron." Bradely said. He looked at the next soldier in line and realized he was shaking like a dog. "What's the matter with you, soldier?" he asked.

The soldier tried to steady himself. "N… nothing, sir…. My name's Charlie Jamison. I'm a… PFC…." he stammered.

"How long has he been here, sir?" Bradely asked, looking at General Lace.

Lace dropped his head., "Day 2, Bradely. I'm really sorry, but your squad orders came from higher up. I didn't have a choice." he said sulkily.

"That's fine, General. I can teach him a thing or two." Bradely reasoned. He looked back at Jamison. "Chin up." he said. Bradely then looked at the only seemingly normal one in his new squadron. "What about you? What's your name?" he asked him.

"PFC Brigham Marshall." the soldier answered.

"Well, how fresh are you?" Bradely asked, not letting up on him.

"I've been out here for a year. If this mission is successful, I'll be promoted up a rank. You can ask my previous COs, I'm not a great fighter, but I've never disobeyed an order." Marshall stated.

"Never disobeyed, huh? Well, let's hope you don't disobey under me." Bradely responded. "Alright, why are you all here? Why are you fighting for your country, ladies and gentlemen?" questioned Bradely, testing them.

"I'm here for the money to give to my family." Marshall answered.

"I'm here 'cause I can be!" Jones snapped.

"I'm… here because… my father wanted me here…." Jamison stuttered.

"I'm here because my country needs me." Hawkeye said with no emotion.

"Hmmm…. Very good. Very good, indeed. Let's see… positions, positions… Hawkeye! You're our sniper, of course. Marshall! You'll be the heavy weaponry. Jamison! Scout the surroundings. And, Jones… you're gonna' stay right by my side…." Bradely barked.

"Aww! No action? Man…." Jones exclaimed.

"Is that disobeying an order, soldier?" Bradely growled.

"Oh, no, sir… never, sir…." Jones said with a stupid grin on his face.

Bradely shot a look at General Lace, but he just shook his head. Bradely took in a deep breath, then said, "Alright, then. I suppose you've all been briefed on the mission?" The squad nodded in unison. "Okay, just as a refresher, then. We're storming a compound that is believed to contain the vicious Al Quida leader Ali Ramzi. We are to kill him. He won't last very long with us storming his little compound. Be prepared to embark by noon tomorrow. By then, we'll know some more information about the compound and the terrain. Your positions might change, so be ready for anything. Dismissed." Bradely finished. The troops saluted Bradely, then left the room. "Man, how'd I wind up with such a ragtag group…?" Bradely moaned.

General Lace smiled, then put a hand on Bradely's shoulder. "The higher-ups have no clue what they're doing. We're the only sensible ones 'round these parts, 1st Lt." he said reassuringly.

"That's obvious…." Bradely huffed. Lace dismissed him, and he went back to his room at the barracks for the night. He fell into a rough sleep, where the vivid replay of that dreaded mission visited him in his dreams….

Bradely, Holiday, Davidson, and Kain approached the two terrorists. They could see a man tied up with a bag over his face in front of them. Bradely deduced that he was their POW. Davidson had the box full of ammunition lobbed up on his back. All 4 soldiers had their M-16's drawn as they came closer. As more details came into view, they could make out the unmistakable shapes of AK-47's in the terrorist's hands. "They're armed, gentlemen. Use extreme caution." Bradely said lowly. As the terrorists spotted the troops, they rambled in their language and one of them put an AK-47 at the POW's head.

"Wow… these guys mean some serious stuff…." PFC Kain said under his breath.

"Shutup. Let the CO do the talking." PFC Holiday snapped quietly.

"Both of you, hush." Bradely said. Finally, they reached the terrorists. They could hear the faint hum of a helicopter off in the distance, supposing it was theirs.

Bradely and the lead terrorist made eye contact for a few seconds before the terrorist spoke in very rough English: "You give ammunition, we give swine." PFC Davidson stepped forward, and with a grunt, dropped the box of ammo at the terrorist's feet. "How much?" the terrorist said.

"10 boxes of M-16 rounds, 12 boxes of AK-47 rounds, 3 RPG-7 rockets, 3 ounces of C4, and 5 frag grenades." Bradely answered.

"Not enough." the terrorist growled.

"Those were your demands." Bradely responded.

"Not enough!" yelled the terrorist. Every soldier except for Bradely readied their rifles. "No violence… no violence…." the terrorist said with a smile.

"Can't we just save the ammo and take our guy by force?" PFC Kain said. The POW whimpered, and the other terrorist poked the back of his head with the rifle.

"No, PFC. Those were not our orders." Bradely stated. "Give 'em your extra clips."

"WHAT? You're crazy, Bradely!" PFC Holiday exclaimed. "Screw this! I'm taking our man and the ammunition!" He walked forward towards the POW. Suddenly, the sickening echo of a sniper shot rang out. The M-16 in Holiday's hands was sent flying. Holiday stopped in his tracks.

Bradely radioed into base. "We got snipers! Repeat! We got SNIPERS!"

Base radioed back, "Permission granted to retreat."

Bradely's alarm went off. He jerked awake in a cold sweat. He groaned, then rubbed his eyes. He got up, and went to go get a shower. He drunk his coffee, suited up, and left for General Lace's office. The Afghan sun was blistering, even in the early morning hours. Bradely's wristwatch had 6:17a.m. The air conditioning in the Base of Operations was heavenly. Upon arrival at the office, the General sat in front of his intelligence team. "Oh! There you are, 1st Lt.! Come in, come in!" Lace exclaimed. Bradely came in, saluted each man in the room, then pulled up a chair and sat. "Well, now. Looks like you won't have to reassign your positions after all, Lt. We've got aerial scans of Ramzi's compound. Take a look." the General said. Bradely leaned in to the computer screen. He grumbled lowly as he eyed over the locations. Luckily, the compound was open-roofed. _That makes it easier for air strikes… and Hawkeye can go to this little sand dune up here…. _Bradely thought to himself.

"What's the structural stability of these buildings here, General, sir?" he asked.

"Well… considering that we flushed a group of Al Quida allies out of there just a few weeks ago, not good. They've been affected by warfare. Also, they built this entire compound in 2 weeks flat. So, the architecture can't be that strong." the General said.

"That makes C4 a valuable option…." Bradely muttered to himself.

"I wouldn't do that, sir." said one of the intelligence team members.

"Why not?" Bradely questioned.

One of the other members answered. "With the size of the compound, the height of the walls, and the shape of the walls, an explosion of that decibel quantity would echo and deafen every person within the compound."

"Okay… well, that's out… hmmm… now what…?" Bradely pondered.

"Frags aren't out of the question, Bradely." General Lace stated.

"Well, we'll all be equipped with at least a few. That's basic." Bradely responded.

"Uh… actually, no, Lt. There's a bit of a shortage here in the barracks of frags. It was, at first, miscommunication between the stock guys. But, when the order finally went through, the convoy carrying the grenades was assaulted. We lost 'em. Another order is pending." General Lace said, avoiding eye contact with Bradely. Bradely just gave Lace a look of disbelief. Lace looked up. "I'm not joshing you, Bradely. We're too low. The only one out there with frags will be PFC Marshall. I'm sorry." he stated.

Bradely took in a deep breath. "Well, a… minor setback. What's the rest of our supplies looking like?" he asked.

"For you, an M-16 with extended scope and stock and a .32. For Hawkeye, an SSR-4000 and a 9mm. For Jones, a standard M-16 and a .32. Jamison will have the same thing. Finally, Marshall will have an M-16 with mounted grenade launcher, 5 frags, 5 flash/bangs, and a Desert Eagle." Lace answered.

"Well, that sounds a little better. Where's Ramzi hiding at?" Bradely questioned.

"We've deduced him to be right here." said one of the intelligence team members as he pointed to the largest building in the center of the compound. Bradely quickly formulated a plan of attack.

"We've already dispatched intelligence to talk to each of the others, so they should know what you're talking about when you give them their orders." Lace explained. Just as he said that, someone knocked on the door. "Come in." Lace said. A man stepped through.

"General Lace, I have some bad n-" The man stopped. "You're 1st Lt. Leon Bradely, right?"

"Yes… why?" Bradely asked.

"Well, you're gonna' want to hear this. PFC Jamison… has been hospitalized. It appears his rifle "misfired" when cleaning. His shin bone is shattered. It's unlikely he'll even walk again, let alone fight." the man said. There was silence in the room. Bradely then cursed aloud.

"Well, there goes your scout, Lt… the bloody coward…." General Lace growled.

"Do my other soldiers know?" Bradely asked.

"Yes, sir. They've been notified." the man spoke.

General Lace grunted, "Dismissed." The man left. "Well… it's 6:45a.m., so they should be starting to organize for your mission. Why don't you go lend a hand, 1st Lt.?" Lace ordered.

"Yes, General." Bradely agreed. Lace dismissed everyone in the room. Bradely walked down the dusty roads of the barracks towards the convoy depot, highly aggravated by the events that had just occurred. As he walked, his thoughts began to drift back to that day that stuck out so badly in his memory….

"Get OUT of there, you morons!" Bradely screamed into his radio. As they helicopter flew low over the scene, Bradely could see Holiday dispatching the snipers one by one. Davidson was injured and hidden. Kain was in a shootout with the other terrorists. When the firing began, the terrorists had shot the POW, killing him. However, even though Bradely had retreated, his squad simply refused to.

"NO! These ingrates killed one of our own! They will die!" Kain radioed back.

"And if we die, then we'll die fighting!" Holiday chimed in.

"Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, will die today! Now board this copter!" Bradely barked. No response. Bradely stumbled his way to the pilot. "Let me down! I'm going in after them!" he ordered.

The pilot snapped back, "No way, soldier! I'm not landing until they get to a safe position! My orders were not to land within a mile of combat!"

"Then put me down out there!" Bradely pleaded.

"Soldier, by the time you make it back there, they'll be dead!" the pilot reasoned.

"There may be a chance they'll make it through!" Bradely yelled back stubbornly. He radioed in, "Come… ON! I'm not letting you DIE!" The helicopter rose a little in altitude. Bradely caught sight of movement away from the main gunfire. He pulled his M-16 and looked through the scope. A terrorist came up out of a foxhole with an RPG-7 and quickly took a clear firing position. "Watch out! You've got a rocket launcher!" Bradely warned his men.

"No way! I've cleared every hiding spot in the immediate area!" PFC Holiday responded. He was sprinting to aid Kain. Just as he reached him, a rocket flew through the air. It landed, catching all three soldiers in the explosion.

"NO! NO! DAVIDSON! HOLIDAY! KAIN!" Bradely screamed into his radio. Silence. "No… no… oh god, no… why… WHY?" he moaned, hysterical.

The pilot tried reassuring him. "It's okay… there's nothing that you could've done…." He raised the copter up, and headed back towards base. Bradely curled up into a fetal position, trying to calm himself. His vision faded, and soon his consciousness….

A tear ran down Bradely's cheek as his thoughts returned to the modern world. He had a large memory lapse between his helicopter ride back and when he woke up in the mental aid ward at the hospital a week later. He arrived at the convoy depot and got to work. Just as the Hummer his squad was set to take was ready, the others showed up. "1st Lt." they all said with a salute. "So… we heard about PFC Jamison, sir…." Marshall said with a frown.

"Ah, don't worry about it. We can do without a scout." Bradely reassured them.

"Good riddance. We don't need no momma's boy cowardly butt fairy like him!" Jones said boldly.

"Jones… I'm not in the habit of telling my men this, but… shutup." Bradely said.

"We've been briefed on the most current situation, sir. We also know our gear." 2nd Lt. Hawkeye stated, just as serious as ever.

"Alright then. Let's see… it's 7:55. We've got 5 minutes 'till departure. Let's go ahead and fill the Hummer." Bradely suggested. He got on and took his seat. The others followed suit.

"So… yeah. Tell me a little about yourselves." Bradely said, trying to make comfortable conversation.

"I'm from Georgia, sir. My family's a little poor, so I thought I'd come here and get 'em some money." Marshall answered.

"How much?" Bradely asked.

"All of it." he responded.

"Every bit?" Jones questioned in disbelief.

"All of it." he said again. "People's respect is enough for me."

"Well… I praise you for your loyalty, soldier." Bradely said, smiling. "What about you, 2nd Lt.? What's your story?"

Hawkeye started to say something, but then stopped to rethink her words. "I guess I'm here because my country needs me, sir. I don't care about money, respect, or medals…." she said, her voice trailing off.

"So… you're here for peace of mind, basically?" Bradely asked.

"Yes, sir." Hawkeye said, regaining her composure.

"That's fine in its own right, Lt." Bradely stated. "I know I'm gonna' regret this, but… what about you, Jones?"

"Me? Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit! I'm flattered you asked! You know why I'm here? Because I can be, that's why. You know what's here? Adrenaline! You know what I like? Adrenaline! So… here I am!" Jones laughed.

"What about you, sir?" Marshall asked.

"I came from the little town of Rayne, Wyoming. I joined the Marine Corps to get enough money for Sasha and I's wedding." Bradely explained.

"So you're engaged, huh? Love's a worthless lie." Jones stated.

"I didn't ask for opinions, Jones. Now set there and be quiet." Bradely growled. Jones dropped his head, trying to contain his laughter. There was silence in the Hummer as it roared to life and pulled out of the garage. It rumbled off into the desert. After a few minutes, Bradely started thinking back, trying to remember what happened in his memory lapse. Only one memory stuck out.

Bradely opened his eyes. He was dizzy. He could make out a few fuzzy voices in the room. He could tell he was in a hospital bed. For some reason, he felt terrified. His hearing cleared and he made out a bit of the conversation. "Well, what's the verdict, doc?" It was General Lace.

An unknown voice spoke. "He's been affected by post-traumatic stress disorder."

Lace groaned. "Aw, great… just great… my best man…."

The mysterious man explained, "Don't be too worried. He's shown remarkable progress. In fact, in 2 days, he's progressed to stages that a normal man wouldn't reach in weeks. Plus, the medicine is extremely effective… for some reason. He'll be combat-ready in about a week, I'd say." Bradely didn't hear Lace's response as he passed out again.

Bradely jerked back to the real world. He was confused by his lack of memory. He suddenly realized that the Hummer had stopped and the others were getting up. Bradely followed suit. They all got out. Bradely could see the compound off in the distance. "Okay, here's the plan of action. Hawkeye, did you see that little sand dune overlooking most of the compound?" Bradely asked.

"Yes, sir." Hawkeye responded.

"Alright. You're positioned there. First, Marshall, you're going to sneak in there and throw a frag into the southeast building. That will cause those inside the compound to flock there. Next, Jones, you and I will storm through the southwest building. Hawkeye, cover Marshall as he makes it back to us. Once we regroup, we'll charge the central building, killing Ali Ramzi, then hole up there until we've eliminated every terrorist in the compound. After that, we disembark. Do you understand, squadron?" Bradely explained.

"YES, SIR!" the squad exclaimed, standing to attention.

"Move out!" Bradely ordered. The plan was set into action. Marshall split from the group while Bradely and Jones held back. They heard the frag go off. Bradely signaled to Jones, and they moved into their target building. They quickly marched through each room, dispatching those inside, either by knife or by rifle. After exiting the building, they heard sniper rounds as Marshall sprinted towards them. Bradely signaled Jones to take out the guards in front of the central building.

"I'm goin' for a first down!" he screamed as he charged. The guards opened fire, but missed. Jones pulled his .32 and eliminated the guards.

"Don't go screaming like that again, PFC!" Bradely ordered.

"Oh so sorry, sir…." Jones smarted off. They heard terrorists screaming behind them. The three soldiers entered the central building. They were met with a nasty surprise. A frag explosion rang out, collapsing the front of the building, and slightly injuring Bradely and Marshall. They ducked into a side room. Bradely kept peering out, and occasionally firing a few shots. Eventually, Bradely gave the order to charge. They all sprinted towards the next room, under heavy fire. A bullet grazed Marshall, and Jones' vest took one. However, they still made it to the next room. Bradely hovered in the doorway for a couple of seconds, and saw Ali Ramzi in the opposite room. But, he was too heavily guarded and there was too much crossfire to make it across. Suddenly, another frag exploded, deafening Bradely. In his lack of hearing, his thoughts left the battlefield and wandered to his first clear memory after that dreadful mission….

"General… I couldn't… I couldn't save them…." Bradely stammered.

"Quit fretting, 1st Lt. You and I both know there was absolutely nothing that could've been done. They were being belligerent, disobeying their orders. They died out of their own sheer folly." General Lace said.

"Yes, but… I could've saved them! I know it!" Bradely whined.

"Hush! Not another word, Lt.! That's an order! They died fighting for their country! At least they died with honor! Don't tell me you wouldn't do the same thing." Lace barked.

Bradely dropped his head. "Yes…."

"See? Now, dismissed." Lace ordered.

"But, I-" Bradely said.

"Dismissed!" Lace interrupted. Bradely sighed deeply, then left the office, his head hung low in his unforgivable shame….

Bradely's thoughts shifted back to the battle at hand. He pondered his biggest issue over in his mind. _I know what I must do… but can I?_ he thought. "What now, boss?" Jones hollered.

Bradely smiled as he made his decision. "Gentlemen… I want you to stay right here. Do NOT go after me. Understood?" he stated. Marshall and Jones reluctantly said yes. Bradely readied his M-16, and charged out into the open. Shot after shot hit him. He opened fire, and his own shots hit their mark. Ali Ramzi fell, a bullet through his head. Before Bradely fell, he turned, and saluted Marshall and Jones. Bradely hit the ground as he drew his last breath. Jones sat in stunned silence and Marshall screamed at the top of his lungs. Marshall threw the remainder of his frags and flash/bangs into the hallway. He launched every grenade in his grenade launcher. After he had finished, there was silence in the compound. The mission was successful. In the hallway, the corpse of 1st Lt. Leon Bradely laid still, a smile on his face….

Exactly a week had passed since the mission when the awards ceremony was held. PFC Jones, PFC Marshall, and 2nd Lt. Hawkeye stood outside of the barrack's Mess Hall. They were in shambles. Neither of them had seen each other since the mission. They stood together in an awkward silence before Jones finally spoke up. "I… I think we all took Bradely's death… a little harder than expected…."

"You got that right." Marshall said.

"I never thought it'd cross my mind, but I actually wanted to ask… to ask to be departed back home." Hawkeye said, lacking her normal, straight-forward and serious attitude.

"I don't understand why he did it… why sacrifice himself for us? He didn't know us from anybody on the street! I feel so pathetic, because he gave up his life so I could live… and now there's no way I can repay that debt…. I don't think I can live with that on my shoulders…. I honestly have come so close to just swallowing my M-16's barrel so many times the past week…." Marshall murmured.

"Well, I wouldn't have took it THAT far, but… yeah, I'm suffering. I've never had anyone risk anything for me, let alone their life. It makes me… it makes me wonder…. I don't think I could face anyone back home anymore. I thought about just goin' AWOL. Maybe I could make a living amongst the… ah… "good" citizens 'round these parts." Jones explained.

"You've got a different demeanor now, PFC." Hawkeye noted.

"Trust me. Once this shock wears off, I'll be back to my normal, awesome self." Jones said cockily. Suddenly, General Lace's voice rang out from inside the Mess Hall. The three headed inside to listen.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. As I'm sure you've all heard, we lost a good man last week. 1st Lt. Leon Bradely sacrificed himself to complete his mission in honor of the country he serves. He died a valiant death. Leon Bradely was a brave man, full of integrity and respect. In honor of the sacrifice he made, he will be promoted to Captain General and receive the Medal of Honor in death." General Lace stopped as the crowd cheered. He wiped tears away from his eyes. "And… in honor of those who served alongside him…." Lace continued. Jones, Marshall, and Hawkeye perked up. "For their respectable loyalty to Bradely, they will each be promoted an honorary 2 ranks." Jones, Marshall, and Hawkeye stepped forward into the view of everyone. The crowd cheered again. They each shook General Lace's hand. After the award ceremony concluded, the three walked back to the barrack's living quarters together.

"Two ranks, huh? That's amazing… what a huge pay raise… my family will be happy." Marshall said.

"I'm up to an Officer ranking now. I can have a sniper squad of my own." Hawkeye stated with some pride.

"You know what? I think I'm gonna' stick around until my tour's done. If anything, in honor of Bradely. I've never respected anybody 'till him." Jones explained.

"Yeah… I made my decision. Bradely wouldn't want me to kill myself, he would want me to fight in his honor. Plus, my family… I can't leave them…." Marshall said lowly.

"I'm in the same position. If I continue my tour in his honor, I'm actually here for a personal reason, not just for merely serving my country. I think… that's what I've needed this whole time…. To have a personal reason. Now, I'm even more determined not to miss my mark!" Hawkeye beamed. There was silence for a few minutes.

Marshall spoke up. "Hey… you two want to come back to my place? We can have a drink or two." Both Jones and Hawkeye agreed. Later that night, they all toasted to Leon Bradely, the most honorable man they knew.

_**Fin **___


End file.
